


i am not a beast.

by lakshmi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 4.2 ruined me, 4.2 spoilers beware!!!!!!!, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:23:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakshmi/pseuds/lakshmi
Summary: fuck you, zenos. ffffffuck you. comfort stuff with my two faves.





	i am not a beast.

that wasn’t what she expected. 

 

she’d expect that aggression from a garlean, from a sworn citizen at mere mention of her deeds. but this? a disciple of zenos sent to hunt her down and more - she can’t say she isn’t unsettled. doesn’t want to admit it, more like. the wound the crown prince created had barely begun to heal; the ambassador ripped the stitches out as if they were mere strings. it bleeds freely now, those creeping thoughts of his last moments descending in full force upon her without hesitation. fighting it is easier said than done. she knows the names attached to her own carry no weight - the warrior of light is  _ nothing  _ like the crown prince’s prized beast. 

 

  she repeats it over and over in her head, a mantra she can’t afford to forget any time soon. consciously, she knows the chances of zenos having survived are less than none - but she can’t keep herself from doubting her own trust. the chance that he remains breathing still exists, no matter how she looks at it. 

 

    and if he yet lives, then she doubts even the scions could protect her. she can’t even protect herself. not from that monster. once he sinks in his teeth, he’s not like to ever let go. she stands at a precipice now - to fall wholly into believing his survival and begin to prepare, or to turn her head and try to preserve what peace she’s found. she likes neither option. ala mhigo is stable, but she still has business there that cannot be put aside just yet, though she anticipates she may be forced to. 

 

  a breath leaves her, lengthier than originally intended. she’s not often aware she’s too deep in her own mind before it’s far too late to detach painlessly. she rolls over, pulling the covers up to hide her shivers. 

 

   she’d long retired, earlier than the rest of the enclave, happy to put her head down for more than ten minutes. hien had joined her not long after, having had his own fill of politics for the day - at the very least, she cannot think of any other reason he would. but as of now, she knows it is to be closer to her than they could be in the hall. treaties of peace besides, they both have their own encumbering difficulties to face.  _ it is best we are together, at least _ . 

 

    she’s well aware neither of them have slept since the offer from the garleans was accepted. any attempt was just that - an effort, but lacking in success. kanan can’t blame him. but she can blame herself for not killing the bastard when she had the chance -

 

   ‘  kanan?  ‘ 

 

  her breath stills for a moment as she turns to look at him -  _ she must’ve been breathing too fast -  _ he’s propped up on an elbow, watching her intently. there’s a faraway look in his eyes too, as if he’s reminded of something long lost. she hopes he isn’t. kanan sits up, held up by one hand behind her as she looks at anything but him. she doesn’t know what to say.  _ maybe she doesn’t have to say anything _ . 

   ‘  if ‘tis the boy that troubles you, then rest assured, i am deeply concerned as well.  ‘  he comments quietly, almost a whisper. ‘ and, if not… then i would be glad to hear what stalls your spirit so, kanan. ‘  

 

  she can’t imagine he isn’t just as weighed down by this as she. his people are at stake - and those of garlemald’s, too. even the lightest of steps could bring the entire tower of cards down, and with it, doma’s freedom. her dignity. lives. the costs could and would be numerous and heavy. so when he moves to sit up too and begins to rub slow circles into the skin of her back, she leans into the touch, into him. 

 

  ‘  i wish it were that simple. ‘tis not… i do not care for the diplomat. ‘tis… the probability of z - the crown prince’s survival that concerns me most. ‘  terrifies, more like. keeps her awake at night, haunts the few dreams she’s able to have. pushes her into the shadows for wont of less attention. kanan can’t deny it - she’s tired of being known before she’s met. they know her, and yet, they do not  _ know  _ her. they cannot. 

 

   ‘ ah. ‘ is his only response at first, his cheek resting against her hair. ‘ you are afraid he will return, is that right? ‘  in any other circumstance, she’d expect the query to be criticising - yet it is not, and betrays his boundless capacity for genuine curiosity and caring. 

 

   ‘ i - ‘  kanan pauses, straining against her own vulnerability. he is right, and yet… not wholly. ‘ yes, however. i am - concerned about mine own fate, but ‘tis the fate of the others around me that worries me most. ‘  

 

    he says nothing. she doesn’t expect him to. 

 

  but she presses on regardless, unnerved. ‘  i know you can take care of yourself, just - ‘ his hand stops its motion and rests itself over her waist almost  _ protectively _ . kanan falls silent, unsure how or what to say. 

 

    hien breathes, pulling her back into the plush of the futon. she lies her head against his chest, ear near trained to hear the steady beating of his heart. it helps her breathe again, to tightly cling to her humanity just as he so openly shares his. 

 

    ' it may well be that he has survived, by some curse. be that as it may... ' he combs the hair from her cheek with a hand. '  yes, wildbloom, i can well take care of myself. but it would do you much good to remember that we fight  _together_ , ne'er apart. ' his reply is short, yet she does not feel offput - he has given her the short version, for once. '  promise me you will not forget. ' 

 

     kanan quietly hums in agreement. ' i would not. ''tis difficult to when i have you to remind me. ' she fits her waist in the crook of his arm, absentmindedly running her fingertips over the scarred tissue of his chest. he tightens his grip. 

 

     she hopes he never lets go. 


End file.
